


reason comes on the common tongue (of your loving me)

by ShamelesslyPoetic



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys Kissing, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, blowjob, degredation, discussing morality while fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShamelesslyPoetic/pseuds/ShamelesslyPoetic
Summary: Roman thinks he’s doing the right thing. Virgil would beg to differ, and he does, questioning Roman’s morals and decisions at the same time he’s giving him head.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	reason comes on the common tongue (of your loving me)

**Author's Note:**

> I come back from the dead three months later bearing the best enemies to lovers smut you’ve ever feasted your eyes upon. You’re welcome. 
> 
> Big thanks to the inspiration wizard for helping me churn this all out in one sitting while I was supposed to be studying (no I don’t know how I did it either), and a bigger thank you to my ever-supportive partner. 
> 
> Title from moment’s silence by hozier. Partially inspired by the enemies 2 lovers song by Natalie Chavez.

Roman, among other things, had always valued his skill, his concentration. His superiors told him he was one of the brightest students they’d ever seen, bred and born for perfection. He prided himself in being an instrument of justice and order. Followed instruction and trained and toiled till he’d gotten to the lead of his section. 

He’d never let his best asset falter, even in the most distracting situations, but he’d have to admit it was always difficult to focus through the warm wetness of Virgil’s mouth wrapped around his cock. 

“That’s it Princey, so pretty for me,” Virgil murmured, peppering kisses all over the length of Roman’s cock and occasionally giving it a lazy tug. Roman clenched his jaw but it was no use, a small moan ruptured past his parted lips and Virgil, self-satisfied intolerable villain he was, smirked. “Wish your mind was as easy to take apart.” 

Roman tensed, limbs stiffening. He flexed his fingers where he had them plunged in Virgil’s deep plum-purple locks, his other hand gripping the armrest as he glared down and bared his teeth. But he refused to rise to the bait. He was better than that. Instead he pushed Virgil down. 

Virgil resisted, keeping his chin stubbornly tilted up. He squeezed Roman so hard he might have choked if not for the way he bit his inner cheek. 

“What is it, my prince?” the wretched nightmare tormenting Roman’s senses drawled. “Afraid a few words might shake that little perfect world of yours all out of order?”

“G-Get on with it, Singh,” Roman snapped, a little less controlled than he would have liked. 

“As you wish,  _ your highness _ ,” Virgil spat, dripping venom. He lowered his head and sucked the tip into his mouth, artfully swirling his tongue around it. A moment later he broke off with a lewd popping noise, a string of salvia connecting him to Roman’s slit.  _ Fuck _ .

“A hero,” he mused, his wrist twisting a steady rhythm at Roman’s base. 

Roman huffed through his nose, tightening his grip in Virgil’s hair so that it was near painful. Unperturbed, Virgil scratched at his inner thigh in retaliation, smiling sweetly. “The government makes you their little bitch and you’re crowned hero.” 

Normally he’d have a much more cohesive response, speeches he memorized by heart, always ready to fire back at anyone who questioned his allegiance but all Roman could manage was a hissed “Fuck you.”

Virgil ignored him. “So gallant, so noble, so handsome and brave, so completely perfect, they tell you.” He went on, kissing the tip of Roman’s cock open-mouthed and warm and perfect but not nearly  _ enough _ , before he licked a stripe down the side to his vein. The words burned across Roman’s skin and his cock throbbed. A cheap shot; he’d always loved praise. “Who could ever match you, Roman? Oh, Roman…” Virgil closed his mouth over the tip once more, reeling forward till his nose was buried in curly hair. He puffed his cheeks, swallowing, and then he moaned, the vibrations around Roman’s cock sending shivers down his spine. 

“Fuck,” he whispered and then snapped his jaw shut. Virgil pulled off all the way and Roman just barely managed to contain the frustrated growl in the back of his throat.

Virgil looked up at him with limpid, lidded eyes, cheeks flushed and mouth hanging open as he panted. “Don’t hold back,” he said. “Wanna hear you. Wanna see just how much more I’ll like that haughty voice of yours when it’s screaming my name.”

Roman grit his teeth, shaking his head tightly. He wouldn’t succumb. Not to him. 

“Come on, Roman, be a good boy,” Virgil purred. “Isn’t that what you’ve always been taught to do?”

A taunt that sent Roman’s blood boiling…but also split his heart in two. Those dark, deadly eyes trained up at him and the combined senses of Virgil running his cool fingers up and down Roman’s thigh as he mouthed around his cock was too much,  _ too much. _

Roman looked away. 

“Coward,” Virgil said sunnily. 

Roman sneered, but didn’t look back. Instead he focused his eyes on the dingy window behind Virgil’s head and the suffocated traces of moonlight streaming through. They provided little illumination but Roman could make out that the apartment was barely a two by two. 

A bed was cramped in one corner, a table with two drawers plastered to its side. One singular flower wilted in a small cracked vase on it, one paperback, one pen, one notebook and one shattered picture frame. Roman didn’t need to look to know whose photo it held. It was the first time they’d had their…meetings there and until a moment ago Roman was far too preoccupied to properly look but as he did, he found his chest tightened. It looked like a  _ coffin _ . 

“Do you like my apartment?” Virgil mocked. “It’s a courtesy of the people you work for.”

Roman didn’t know what to say. His mind and stomach churned. He’d upped the stairs with Virgil two at a time ignoring how they creaked under his weight, the mattresses scattered everywhere and the dusty doors lined closely together. To rid him of the image of a kid dangling from a rail, Roman had pressed Virgil against the wall and kissed him until they were both breathless. 

“Can practically hear those thoughts of yours,” Virgil rasped, voice more sultry than it had any right to be attacking Roman’s psyche like that. “You think you’re above me don’t you Princey?”

Roman opened his mouth to protest but Virgil cut him off with a sharp nip to his thigh. 

He stroked Roman, achingly slow, as he continued. “Think just because someone gives you a set of rules and tells you it is what you have to do…that you’re doing the right thing.” 

Something stung at Roman’s eyes, guilt or shame or the dust hanging in the air. Perhaps it was the haze of Virgil’s touch or Roman’s soft pants as he lost control of himself but…he wondered things that if said aloud, could be considered treason. Was everything just so ingrained in him to the point he didn’t question it, and if he did, immediately disregarded all his doubts? Was that of his own will or was he compelled?

Virgil squeezed Roman’s cock again and Roman snapped out of his thoughts with a startled cry. 

Virgil growled, his gaze hard. “That’s right, look me in the eye for once.”

Roman swallowed, gentling his hand in Virgil’s hair. 

“But what about me? And all the people like me?” Virgil picked up his sentence from earlier, redoubling his efforts as he swallowed Roman down to the hilt, and pulled almost all the way back, before sucking sharply at the tip.

Roman moaned, his thighs quivering as he struggled not to buck his hips into Virgil’s mouth. Virgil’s hands came up to grip the back of Roman’s thighs, leading him forward to rock into his mouth, Roman letting out ragged gasps as Virgil swallowed him down. 

“You never saved them, did you?” Virgil breathed finally and this time Roman couldn’t look away. “How did they convince you that was right?” He asked, nails digging into Roman’s thighs. “To leave people starving and homeless and dying and missing or stuffed in coffins just because they didn’t act a certain way? Because they didn’t conform?”

Roman’s hips stuttered and he gasped, but it wasn’t a sound of pleasure as much as it was a show of remorse. 

“Virgil,” Roman  _ whimpered _ . He felt raw and disheveled, naked despite that from the waist up and knees down he was still clothed. His mind was skinned bare, bloody gashes opened through everything he’d ever been taught. 

Virgil, frustrated that Roman kept zoning out, slid his hand back further and pinched Roman’s ass. 

Roman’s hips lifted and he squeezed his eyes shut as Virgil practically pounced on him, working him over, bobbing his head a few times until Roman was so close, right there, gasping and shaking and unable to control himself. Or maybe he’d let go of his own accord, maybe he’d decided to listen to Virgil, his biggest act of defiance after letting Virgil into his bed. 

“That’s it, Ro, show me what a whore you really are,” Virgil rasped, palming his cock with one hand as he watched Roman. The sight of Virgil gaining pleasure from pleasing Roman had Roman’s head falling back, exposing the line of his throat. Virgil inched closer and drew himself up, kissing up Roman’s neck all the way to his lips.

“Look at me,” Virgil demanded. 

Roman swallowed. Closed his eyes. 

“ _ Look _ at me, Roman,” Virgil repeated, more forcefully this time as he snared his fingers in the back of Roman’s head and tugged his head towards him. When their eyes finally locked, Virgil’s eyes hungry and blazing where Roman knew his own radiated guilt. He pressed their lips together, hard and desperate. Virgil shoved his tongue into Roman’s mouth and when his lips fell open on a loud moan of Virgil’s name, he nipped at his lower lip. 

Roman couldn’t take it anymore. He gripped Virgil’s shoulders, trying to push him down. 

“Not the controlled perfect prince they designed, are you now?” Virgil murmured harshly against Roman’s lips, their eyes so close Roman could see Virgil’s weren’t black but a deep, deep maroon-brown. Chestnuts. Mahogany. 

Their noses bumped as Virgil tilted his head. “Oh what would they think if they could see you?” 

Overwhelmed, Roman bit at his knuckles to stifle a shout at the fire that zinged through him. Virgil cooed and got back down on his knees, taking Roman’s neglected cock back into his hand. It hadn’t softened one bit, their bruising kisses and body heat enough to keep Roman on the edge. 

“They’d probably be disgusted,” Virgil offered and Roman should have felt scared or ashamed, should have been calculating the odds of someone recognizing him even cloaked in darkness as he trailed after who the world had named his enemy, but no, he only felt burning warmth and anticipation, his thoughts a white-hot fog begging for  _ more _ . 

“So disappointed in you for deigning to associate with a lowly rebel and actually  _ enjoy _ it.”

“Virgil!” Roman cried, hoping no one would hear him. 

“Say it, Roman, you’re my whore not theirs.” Virgil said before pulling Roman back into his mouth. 

“Your whore!” Roman gave in, his defenses scattered around the room, everything but the feeling of Virgil’s mouth lost in the back of his head. He didn’t care about anything else. He needed more. Needed  _ him _ . “God, Virgil, Virgil I’m your whore, yours, please.”

Virgil pulled off and Roman whined, loud and needy. He gripped Virgil’s hand, begging him with his eyes. 

“Tell me what you want,” Virgil ordered. “Ask me, you’re not above asking me.” 

“Please, Virgil, please,” Roman begged, so far gone his lips moved without his input. “Wanna, need to come - please let me come.”

“Good boy,” Virgil said and Roman shivered. “That wasn’t so hard was it?” He smiled, his hands settling on the back of Roman’s thighs once more, scrabbling at them. “Go on, my sweet whore, fuck my mouth. Come all over yourself for me.”

Roman nodded, moaning desperately, and with a few thrusts into the perfect heat and wetness of Virgil’s mouth, Roman did. His body went taut and he shot cum down Virgil’s throat, moaning his name in a stupor. Virgil sucked and licked him clean till he was writhing from overstimulation and pushing lightly on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil, a little sadistically, sucked his tip once more so that Roman let out a breathy, choked whine. Only then did Virgil pull off. 

Roman caught sight of himself in the dirty cracked mirror hanging from a nail against the crumbling plaster of the wall. He looked nothing like himself, with a rebel plopped between his legs and his sweaty hair over his eyes, lips bloody and bitten, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed a sinful red. He bit his lip so he wouldn’t moan and give Virgil all the motivation he needed to push him onto the bed and ride him till he broke. 

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Roman managed after he came down and pulled his pants up. 

Virgil blinked in surprise before sobering, his voice quiet. “I know.”

Virgil rose from his knees and bent down to kiss him once chastely, pulling back when Roman followed him. 

But Roman just pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed and pretending for a moment, that they were completely different people. That Roman hadn’t tried to arrest Virgil a bunch of times, that he wasn’t supposed to still be trying, that when they met Virgil hadn’t spat at Roman’s feet, that the first time they’d kissed it wasn’t with a knife pressed to Roman’s throat. 

Virgil’s voice broke through a daydream in which the two lay side by side, content, in a world that didn’t condemn anyone. “It’s almost dawn,” he said, the hand cupping Roman’s cheek gentle as it slid away. “You’d better get going Princey.”

Roman stood up, breathing deeply to steady himself as he stepped forward. “Virgil, I-”

“No.” Virgil smiled bitterly, eyes glistening as he retreated a step back. “Don’t, Roman.”

“But I, I can help!” Roman rushed forward so suddenly Virgil bumped into his bedside as Roman captured his hands in his own. “Let me help.” He pleaded, pressing Virgil’s hands to his chest. “I’ll find you a better place, I’ll find your brother-”

Virgil yanked back, shaking as he wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head. “Stop it!” he cried out, hopeless. Thomas’s photo had toppled to the ground and a twinge of guilt needled into Roman. 

Virgil picked it up and pressed it over his heart like a shield, Thomas’s toothy smile and mop of hair half covered by his arm. Virgil shook his head violently. “It wouldn’t change a fucking thing. Do you have any idea how  _ many _ of us there are? How many people here have missing friends and family?” 

Roman swallowed, watching Virgil wearily, his brows furrowed and eyes pleading. 

It only added to Virgil’s anger, gaze flashing red. “I’m not leaving them, you chose to abandon them Princey that doesn’t mean I will too.”

“That’s not-” Roman began. 

“Fair?” Virgil asked sourly. He held up a hand before Roman could speak again. “Yeah, I know. You didn’t  _ choose _ , but neither did I. You were born there and…” he hesitated. “And I here. Best we keep things as they are.”

Their eyes locked and Virgil’s shone with melancholy over a bitter imitation of a smile. “Isn’t that what you always told me?”

He had. But that was before this. Before he’d come to know what Virgil liked and what he disliked, before he found out how his dark skin glowed in the sunlight, how his eyes looked different under different lighting, how he wrote poetry, how his favourite dish was a curry his mom used to make before they immigrated. Every time they came together should have just been mindless fucking to allay the inexplicable attraction they felt towards each other but it had led Roman’s heart closer to Virgil’s until he realized that deep down they wanted the same thing. A fair world. 

Roman wanted to tell him, but Virgil was looking off into the grey mist of dawn, miles away from Roman. 

“Go, Yang,” Virgil whispered. “Before I kiss you and convince myself we can have any more than this.”

So Roman left. He slipped through the streets back to his dorm where Logan, already up before everyone and reading, gave him a knowing look.

Roman returned it with a shaky smile and lay awake staring up at the ceiling the hour he’d usually steal for sleep. He couldn’t sleep. Not when his mind ran with so many thoughts and the most reckless decision he’d ever make. 

“Roman?” Logan asked, looking Roman over his glasses. “Are you quite alright?”

“I’m fine, Specs.” Roman grinned. “More than fine. I’m perfect.”

Logan rolled his eyes and laid back down. Roman made a mental note to come back for him. 

At roll call Roman tore his sash from his chest, making a public departure, leaving disgraced. The only thing he was allowed to take was a few of his clothes and nothing else. 

He showed up at Virgil’s doorstep two hours later with a can of paint and a curry bought with some of the money he’d stashed under his pillow, once hoping the day would never come when he’d have to use it.

Virgil’s eyes darted around for the rose wax seal that was always somewhere on Roman’s person and found nothing. He stared and they both stood silent, just looking at each other for a long moment. 

_ Say something _ , Roman desperately thought. 

“You’re insane,” Virgil finally breathed. 

Before Roman could reply Virgil shot forward and kissed him, so fiercely that they fell to the ground and the paint splattered over them but that didn’t matter. Not with Virgil’s lips pressed against his own, not with their hands intertwined, not with the smile and overjoyed tears Virgil beamed at him when they pulled back as he told Roman he was crazy again, not as they kissed, soft and warm and sweet over and over. 

That night they had watery soup for dinner on one long table surrounded by so many people, pressed shoulders on him from nearly every side and the smell of sweat mingling, and Roman could barely hear his own voice over the ruckus of kids and chatter and Virgil’s laughing but he’d never felt so warm before. 

When he settled Virgil in his arms with a promise to gather his few loyal friends to get a credible search party for Thomas the next morning, Virgil sobbed in his arms until he fell asleep, his hand pressed over a steady heartbeat. 

“I love you,” Virgil whispered, right before his eyes fell shut. 

Roman closed his eyes too, kissing his forehead. “I love you too, Virgil.”

Roman, stripped of status and insurance and everything he’d once been, didn’t regret anything. Not one thing.

**Author's Note:**

> No, I do not have anything to say for myself except that ya’ll should be grateful I gave this a happy ending.
> 
> Be sure to leave kudos and comment for a 1 in 10 chance the inspiration wizard might visit you too. 
> 
> Take care and don’t forget to drink your loving Roman juice ❤
> 
> \- Elise xoxo


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